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Maya Fields Sep 8
They're stupid, all of them.
I can't go a day and not hear someone say
Your hot
I hate that.
That sentence
That word
I'm not hot
I'm beautiful.
But Boys
They don't say that.
You're fine not gonna lie
That's all they say
Like a broken record
That repeats it
Without regret in their system.
I'm not fine
Im gorgeous
To the eye.
Not
Meet me on a saturday night
I'm worth more than that kind.
Maya Fields Sep 8
There is life.
And then there is death.
Life,
It is an ongoing sky full of wonder
And beauty.
Sometimes so overwhelming
That we don't notice the opportunity
Hiding beneath the clouds.
Although we do notice when the clouds are dark,
Or the rain is thick.
When lightning struck from darkness
And lights up the night sky.
Life has its bad days,
But it is also full of
Rainbows that bless the sky,
And the sun
That gives us health and fills us with light.
Or the clouds, that we don't usually notice.
But they are the best thing of all.
So many different varieties of
Personality between them.
Sometimes they will fill life to its fullest,
Other times the sky is empty.
A blue void.
And the sunsets, sunrises.
That is when the sun decides to show
Her true beauty,
As she flirts with the moon who is still awoken,
Staring back at her
Waiting for her to seize the day.
Life is a sky full of faith and fields of emotion scattered
Beyond the stars.
So when we have the voice to choose.
Life and death, life or death.
They are so different, that  once you back out of one,
And into another.
There is no pause button,
No rewind.
So when you want to choose death,
A pit of forever guilt.
The guilt of knowing that the sun will mourn and the moon will cry.
The clouds will cover the light spread through the blue,
And the stars will have constellations
Of you.
Choose wisely.
Knowing the opportunity,
You could have,
To surf the clouds.
choose wisely.
Maya Fields Sep 8
Sometimes I want to write.
Sometimes I want to cry.
Sometimes, I want to take it cut by cut.
Slit by slit, of my wrist.
Except that's not all that I want.
But I think of it.
And I want to cry, because
I act tough
And smile.
I act happy
And outgoing.
But really, I want to cry.
Sometimes even die.
Because every little thing in my life
It feels as if a building lost its roof,
And feels weak.
Even if it still has its foundation.
But I will hold that in,
Because my beams are still standing.
Sometimes I don't know what to write,
But that is my blood shed onto paper.
And I know that if I think about these actions that
I dont want to put
into reality,
I will write.
Sometimes the finished product
Isn't always good,
But
‘Bad poems show true emotions’
Between the lines.
These are my true emotions.
Maya Fields Sep 8
i am at peace now.
when i once thought you'd never leave.
i step into this place
which was once my safe place,
interrupted by you.
but this time,
it is not an interruption.
for i am no longer searching your face
in a crowd
nor your name in a room.
I
am finally my safe place.
because i am no longer your free campsite.
you are now a leace
that is for sale,
no longer taken
no longer wasted.
this is now,
you are now
a goodbye.
goodbye.
Maya Fields Sep 8
if your writing my story,
erase his chapter.
where he said he loved me.
but love,
wasn't it.
he played me.
faked me.
lied to me.
there was no we
its was only me.
I gave it all.
my soul,
I called for you
day and night
but you never replied.
all time taken,
it was wasted.
so please,
erase his chapters
and rip out the
pages.
another one goes with it called, For Sale
Maya Fields Sep 6
there is no love as the love from the sea.
one that the sea has for this shore.
one that this shore has for the sea.
the sea rushes in, running towards
the shore, hoping for open arms
as the shore stares back.
the sea meets the shore.
and just as, the sea settles.
because that is what the shore does to it.
calms the sea after all the water
built up and heavy shells in
its huge wave
that the sea has been carrying all day.
the shore takes all of that away
and makes new, but only for a moment
before deepening back out into. but instead,
instead of the sea with a heavy wave,
the shore has dimmed it out into
a calm smooth-over.
and then another comes, not a big
but the shore is still open
with a full heart and smile.
that is their love.
the sea loves the shore even after all the waves all day,
the calm sea still rushes in for the shore.
and the shore is hoping it never stops, because after even
a day of the sea's heavy waves coming barreling in.
the shore still looks toward for
the calm night. that's is the
shores love for that sea.
and that, is their love.
that was once us,
not anymore
Maya Fields Sep 6
You can’t see my sadness,
Because it’s held behind my
Gladness.
A sheet of glass
That plays pretend.
This all was once
A toddlers game,
Now hung out
in shame.
My heart drug out
Across the concrete.
Leaving shattered pieces
Behind me.
What exactly is this?
This reckless
Child’s game.

So let’s play pretend once again.
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